


Since He Was Fourteen

by cassyeopeia



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Also Dog Dad Yunho, And Snow Bunnies, But other than that Fluff, Fake Boyfriend for Christmas AU, Getting to Know Each Other, Lots of Pink and Blue going on, M/M, Minor WooSan, Past Long Distance Relationship, Please they're so adorable imma cry, Yeosang is a sweetheart, Yunho is Nostalgic, lots of fluff, mentions of divorce, snow fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassyeopeia/pseuds/cassyeopeia
Summary: “I told my parents I have a boyfriend.”"You do?!"“I said that on accident. I also may or may not have told them I’m bringing him home for Christmas. How was your morning?”
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 40
Kudos: 255





	Since He Was Fourteen

Yunho threw his phone on his bed, then he followed, face-planting into his pillow. He wrapped it around his face and ears, and groaned. Then sobbed dramatically. And in the end, he screamed.

It was the second to last week before the Christmas holidays. Classes were almost over, there weren’t that many people left on campus, and the dorms became alive at night with a Christmas party almost every day of the week.

The reason why Yunho was tempted to go to this penultimate class was because not many were going to attend, and when the class wasn’t filled, the lecturer tended to be more personal, relaxed and funny, even. The students he disliked the most were surely not going to attend, and he was the kind of guy who would not hesitate to spill the tea, be it about them or other teachers he also didn’t like. 

Before going to class, Yunho would most of the time schedule a meet up with someone, either to chill or to have breakfast with. He didn’t like being alone. At all. And for these types of meetings, he’d always have people to choose from. He wasn’t popular, but knew enough people to never be lonely. He had his course buddies whom he’d talk about or play games with, he had a few who would always invite him to parties, some who were good at giving advice, and others who were solely good at encouraging and energising him when life was too much.

Now he had this friend who was quite special. His name was Wooyoung, whom he didn’t really know where to place. He was a bit of everything. He studied dance, he was handsome, he was protective of his friends, and he had a good heart too. Wooyoung had connections everywhere. He was popular, if anything. But despite this, he was known for only hanging out for four people. One of which was his boyfriend, an also popular individual named Choi San. Also a dance major. Also handsome and kind and protective, and apparently he gave good hugs.

Yunho liked them both, but he was still confused as to what kind of friends they were to him.

The person of choice that day was Wooyoung alone, because San went home over the weekend. Yunho waited for him at a table by the window, watching the snowy trees, and trying not to fall asleep, with his chin rested on his Pringles tube.

Wooyoung arrived soon too, walking over to the table while still in a call with San. “He says hi.” Wooyoung transmitted. Yunho waved his hand. “Yunho says hi back…Okay…Okay, no that’s okay. Don’t worry. Take your time there…Love you…Love you more…” He frowned. “Anyway, you’re wrong. I love you more. Bye.” And hung up. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

“Have you ordered yet?”

“No. I was waiting for you.”

“I’m paying, though, because you bought drinks last time.”

After looking through the manu and making up their minds, Wooyoung went to place the order, and returned a minute later with his black tea and Yunho’s energy drink. He set the tea aside to steep, and Yunho played with the can’s tab.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

Yunho took a sip of his drink and ran his hand through his blue hair.

“I told my parents I have a boyfriend.”

“You do?!”

“I don’t. That’s the thing.”

“I was ready to fight. I thought you didn’t tell me.”

“I said that on accident. I also may or may not have told them I’m bringing him home for Christmas. How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as fun as yours. What do you plan to do about it?”

“No idea. Wait it out. Tell the truth. Tell them I was drunk or something.”

“Take a picture with a guy, tell them you’re together, and you’re done.” Wooyoung said, picking up one sugar cube and dropping it into his tea. 

“I can’t do that. I don’t think I have the guts to ask someone this.”

“Do you want to borrow San?”

Yunho stared with a Pringle in between his lips. He sucked it in, ate it slowly, running Wooyoung’s question through his every system. “You want me to borrow San.”

“Yeah. You can borrow him. Be like ‘Here’s my man’ then you return him to me.”

“You’re crazy.”

“…That too.”

“I’m not ‘borrowing’ your boyfriend.”

Wooyoung hummed, and waited until the waitress finished serving their dishes. “I have someone else to recommend.”

“Please shut up.”

Wooyoung lifted his shoulders indifferently, sipping on his tea like one would after knowing they had won an argument. “Alright then.”

*

When Yunho would walk past Wooyoung, or even see him in the distance, he’d squint his eyes to see whom he was with and who could that guy he recommended with might be. It had been two days since they had the conversation. Yunho stood proudly by his decision. He also stood away from his phone. He hadn’t talked to his parents in the past two days either, because he could not risk answering a call from his mom.

Until he did. On accident.

He was shaving and texting, and his finger slipped. Quite literally.

“Hi, sweetie, we’re going in town now, so I won’t keep you long. I wanted to ask, what does your boyfriend want for Christmas? I want to get him something.”

Internally, Yunho screeched until his need to eject himself out of this world had subsided. “…I- I’ll ask.”

He hated himself for the rest of the day.

He searched for Wooyoung’s contact, then got distracted by a notification. He went back to it, ready to text him, but hesitated again. Two hours had passed, in which he watched a movie, two ‘Tea Spill’ videos he wasn’t even interested in, but by the time they finished, he was fully invested. He took his phone again, quickly texted: ‘So who’s this guy you recommended…’ and hid his phone under his pillow.

Not even five minutes later, Wooyoung replied with an Instagram link. Yunho prayed to the Lord and opened the app.

‘His profile is private?’

To which Wooyoung said: ‘this mf not again’ then ‘Okay :) he’ll accept your request now’

‘I hate this sm and I hate u a lot more’

Wooyoung replied with a series of winky faces, which Yunho ignored.

Just as he opened the profile, Yunho panicked and called Wooyoung.

“I can’t.”

“Did you follow him?”

“Yes.”

“Did he accept?”

“Yes.”

“Are you talking?”

“No. Just stay there. Hold my hand through the phone.”

“I’m holding it.”

“You’re not holding it. I don’t feel it.”

“I swear to God I’m holding it. Now text him. He knows about he whole thing, by the way.”

“What thing?”

“The boyfriend thing.”

“And he said yes?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty chill.”

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna say hi. Is it too soon? Am I creepy? I did just follow him.”

“No it’s fine. He knows you’re gonna text him.”

“Okay…I’ll say hi.” A long pause. “I said hi.”

“Good job. Why are you so nervous about, though?”

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t recommend me someone less pretty!”

“…‘Why didn’t you recommend me someone less pretty’…” Wooyoung repeated, trying to see if he heard that correctly. “What are you even saying? Are you stupid?”

“He’s so cute. He doesn’t have many pictures. I’m sad...Wait, this last picture is from five months ago. ”

“Yeah, he hates social media. And phones.”

“But look at this one! Oh my God, his cheeks…Oh my God, he replied. Oh, God. Okay…He said hi.”

Wooyoung slapped his forehead, laughing on silent mode. “…Good.”

“I said ‘how’s it hangin’…And I totally misspelled that, hold on.”

“Yeosang’s calling me now too.”

“Who the fuck is Yeosang?”

“The guy you’re talking to?”

“Oh, his name is Yeosang! Okay.”

“I told him I’m in a call with you because you’re freaking out.” 

“Don’t tell him that!”

“I literally just did. How’s it going there?”

“I asked him if he wants to talk here or if he’d rather meet. I hope he wants to talk through text because- No, never mind, he wants to meet.”

"I did just tell you he hates phones. That aside, y ou got yourself a date. Congrats."

“Don’t call it a date. It’s an emergency situation.”

*

He sprinted into the library, stumbling over his failed attempts to be punctual. He made a beeline through the infinite bookshelves, to the study booths by the window. Without making it look awkward, he pretended to look down at his phone, but peeking at everyone who had occupied them.There was a group of girls in the first one, a guy with glasses and massive headphones on in the second one, then a guy with pink hair, and not so many books on his table, followed by two dudes who were sleeping on the couches using their textbooks as pillows, and many others perfectly portraying the student life in one shot.

Yunho hid behind the door, texting Wooyoung, asking about anything that he can recognise the dude by. His jaw creaked when he was told the guy had pink hair. Yunho cursed to himself and went back to sneaking around. He tried to act as if he was lost or looking for a certain book, and when he reached the booth, he saw it was empty. Upon further inspection, he saw he had left his stuff there. Yunho was ten minutes late. He still refused to approach him. And even more when he saw the guy with pink hair coming back with a hot drink in his hand. He sat down at the table like he was at a fashion show. Legs crossed, flexing his Dr. Martens boots, biker jacket, black, distressed jeans with chains hooked by the belt loop. Yunho said a quick prayer and walked over.

He was tall, proud, and confident. He wore his best coat, his hair was as fluffy as clouds—because he was told he looked cute and more approachable like this. He walked like a model, hands stuck in his pockets.

Until he remembered that the laces of his boots were untied. And he watched his life flash before his eyes as he tripped. Friendly reminder that he was tall, proud, and confident, with a reputation of never getting embarrassed. He played it off by spreading his arms like a plane’s wings to stop him from falling forward.

“Are you okay?” A low voice said, coming from somewhere in front of him. Too close. Maybe a little too close.

Yunho lifted his head, getting back up. “Yes.” He replied to the boy with pink hair. As fluffy as his. “Um,” He pulled out his phone from his pocket and showed him his conversation with Wooyoung. “Yeosang?”

He nodded, leaning his hands on the table. “Yunho?”

Yunho nodded back, taking a seat on the opposite couch.

It was then when he noticed Yeosang’s tungsten rings and septum piercing. He was the kind of guy Yunho would have stayed away from in middle school, because he had the impression he did spells and voodoo stuff. He had a smaller frame than his, his shoulders were narrow, and the turtleneck he was wearing made them appear even narrower. He was cute. Cute in the cutest way there was. A cat adopting a ducking level of cute.

When Yeosang saw that even when Yunho was seated he had to lift his chin to look at him, he began having regrets. He looked like the kind of person who was loved by everyone, and whom no one could ever pick on because he was too gentle. His cheeks were flushed and his outfit choice made him look smaller. It was the perfect deceiving technique for tall people to look less threatening. It worked on Yeosang. But still, if he met Yunho in middle school, he would have stood away from him out of fear of being mistaken for a blackboard wiper.

“Sorry for being late.” Yunho said after he was done examining, which had taken quite a while.

“It’s okay.” Yeosang removed the paper cup’s lid, and held it into his hands as he softly blew over it. So softly, like he did not want to wake the coffee up. Or tea. Whatever that was. The point was that Yunho’s heart was about to be subjected to a hydraulic press. “So what’s the plan?”

“Huh?”

“You know. The plan. The…arrangement.”

“Oh, um. Well, basically, I talked to my parents about going home for Christmas. And they always ask me if I found someone. They’re worried I’m spending Christmas alone, as if friends don’t count. So when they asked me if I’m bringing someone home this year, my dumbass said yes. Then I played along.”

“I see.” Yeosang put the lid back, took a gentle sip, burned his tongue, yelped in pain, removed the lid again, and continued blowing slowly. Yunho chuckled, and then Yeosang chuckled too. “I did the same last year.”

“You did?”

“I told them I have someone just so they’d leave me alone. But I didn’t go home. I lied the whole way. But then I told them I broke up with this ghost person and my grandma was very sad. I felt bad.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah. So I get it.”

“Is that why you said yes?”

“I did my research. I said yes after.”

“What research?”

“On you. I know this sounds off, but I wanted to see whom I was dealing with.”

“Oh, no, same. I checked you out too.”

By the way they smiled, they were both thinking about the same thing, and both of them thought it was too much. When they had checked each other out, their hair colours stood out. Yunho thought how cute Yeosang’s pink hair would look next to his blue, and Yeosang thought about how well Yunho’s hair complemented his.

“So, do we, um, make up a story? Or…” Yeosang asked.

“You want to do everything now?”

“Are we not?”

“I mean we can, but, you know, didn’t think we needed to rush things.”

“No, we don’t have to rush things. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We can make up a story.”

“Or we can do that next time. That’s okay too.”

“Or, um, do we…”

“Like, get to know each other?”

“Yeah, we should get to know each other.”

“We should, yeah.”

A long pause followed. There was nothing on that table they could interact with to buy themselves time, or to make the moment less awkward.

“What do you study?” Yeosang asked.

“Do you like dogs?” Yunho asked.

Both of them at the same time. And both just as taken aback.

“Sorry, what?” They both asked. At the same time. Again.

“You first.” Yunho suggested.

“I asked what you study.”

“Game design. You? Wait, no, I’ll guess.” Yunho squinted, holding his fore and middle finger to his temples, pretending to read Yeosang’s mind. “Psychology.”

With his hand over his mouth, Yeosang laughed nervously. Then clapped his hands with only his fingers poking out from the beneath she sleeve. “Good job.”

“Wait, really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So do people really ask you if you can read minds and stuff?”

“I got asked that just once. But you seem to already be an expert. Have my degree.” Yeosang smiled, giving his drink another taste testing, happy to finally drink it in piece. Yunho was more scared for his burned tongue. “What was your question?”

“If you like dogs.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re cute.”

“…Can I show you pictures of my dog?”

“…You can.”

Yunho victoriously pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a folder dedicated to his dog. A one year old golden retriever who smiled in every picture. One of Yunho kissing him, another one of him kissing Yunho after tackling him to the floor, another one of them using each other as a pillow. “His name is Monkey.”

Yeosang had to laugh. “…Hi, Monkey. He’s very pretty.”

“He’s the best boy in the world. Can’t wait for you to meet him.” Yunho said without thinking, and his tongue stung at what he had just uttered. Before embarrassment washed over him, he moved on with showing a video of Monkey making friends with a squirrel. “I miss him."

“How often do you see him?”

“Like three times a year. I don’t go home often.”

“Where’s home?”

“Gwangju. Yours? I’ve had the impression you’re from here.”

“No. I’m from Pohang.”

Yunho put his phone down, having went through a moment of déjà-vu he did not know where to place. There was one other person besides Yeosang he knew that was from Pohang. A person that he thought had died from his memory.

“What’s wrong?”

Yunho shook his head. “I just remembered something. Sorry. Got any classes today?”

“Just one. In about two hours. Why?”

“I just remembered they got those chocolate pumpkin cakes at the cafe downstairs.”

“That was today?” Yeosang pulled his jacket on, shouldered his bag, and finished his drink on the way. “Get your things.”

*

They had gotten so deep into talking, that Yeosang was almost late to class, and Yunho almost forgot that was their first real conversation. By the end of their first meeting, they had already laughed at each other once, and Yunho wiped off a chocolate bit from the corner of Yeosang’s mouth with a napkin while telling him about his experiences with playing horror games. After Yeosang hurried to class, Yunho sat there alone to collect himself, as well as all the information he had gathered in hours of talking almost non-stop. He liked Yeosang’s presence, and it felt nice seeing him becoming louder as he was becoming comfortable. He also liked that he was attentive and patient, always looked at him when he talked, and asked him additional questions to prove that he was indeed listening. They had a lot more in common than they thought.

Yunho almost forgot about the arrangement.

He was chilling in his bed when Yeosang finished with his class and messaged him, asking him if he was still at Uni, because: ‘I remember I left while you were in the middle of talking about soundtracks. I’m free if you still wanna talk about it.’

Yunho jumped off his bead and stormed out the door.

*

Yunho sat on top of the broken washing machine, watching Wooyoung counting his change. “You know the first years are having a said ‘Christmas party’, yeah?”

“Yeah, I saw it this morning. Are you going?”

“…Wouldn’t mind.”

“…But?” Wooyoung waited, throwing in the tidepods, slamming the door closed, and sliding the coins in.

Yunho nibbled on his lower lip, catching his slipper between his first two toes before it fell. “Is Yeosang into parties?”

Wooyoung did not even bother to hide his grin. But then he cleared his throat and got back to his question. “Not really, but I guess it depends. He did go to two Halloween parties this year, so…”

“Think he’d say yes?”

“Totally. He’s too kind to say no.”

*

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Yeosang was walking along the Child Psychology aisle, with two thick books in his arms. In the palm of his hand he wrote the book codes. Wooyoung had been following him for about ten minutes, and for ten minutes, Yeosang had successfully stopped himself from looking at him. Yunho was there too, a bit too shy at that moment. He didn’t like it when Yeosang didn’t smile. He looked less approachable when he didn’t.

“But you always say yes.”

Yeosang slammed his books on his study table and finally turned around to face Wooyoung. “And is that your safety net? I was gonna say yes if you hadn’t left me alone the past two times, when I made it clear that I hate it when you do that. You always stick to me, but only until you find your squad. I’m not going to parties with you. Stop asking.” He looked at the code in his palm and went back to searching. While Wooyoung was stunned, Yunho slapped some courage into himself (literally) and went to follow him. Sheepishly.

“What are you looking for?” Yeosang showed Yunho his palm. He memorised it and helped him search. “You still have coursework?”

“No. I’m reading these for myself.”

Yunho nodded, getting down on his knees to search on the lowest shelf, tapping each book’s spine until he found it. It was an old, unfriendly looking one called ‘Forensic Child Psychology’. He handed it to Yeosang, and he was thanked with a smile.

“Why do you hate being left alone?”

Out of all the ways Yunho had in mind to phrase the question, that was the worst. His head and chest filled with so much regret, that his cheeks became cold. Seconds passed in which Yeosang said nothing, but he also did not give him any death glares. “Not good with crowds.”

“Come with me?”

“What?”

“I’d like to go with you. I’m not going with anyone either. Not too crazy about parties, so you know.”

“Wooyoung told me about the time you jumped from the second floor with no shirt on just to roll in the snow. I also saw the video.”

“…Like I said, I’m not too crazy about parties.”

Yeosang collected his last book and went back to his table. Wooyoung was not there, but had left his bag behind. “…When is it?”

“This weekend.”

“…Fine.”

Yunho smiled softly, postponing his screaming session until he was out. “Do you have a Christmas sweater?”

“No. I hate those.”

“All of them?”

Yeosang sighed. “Hyung, what do you want?” 

“Would you wear a matching one with me?”

“I thought that’s what couples wear.”

“Or…People will think we’re cute.”

Burying his face to his crossed arms, Yeosang groaned. “…Fine.”

To comfort him, Yunho wanted to pat his shoulder, but a ghostly force guided his hand to his hair instead. He didn’t mind. Yeosang didn’t seem to mind. The aligned planets didn't seem to mind. He ruffled Yeosang’s hair gently, until he peeped only his eyes out from under his arms, and it looked like they were smiling.

“Ew, get a room you two.” Yeosang was going to ignore Wooyoung again, but Yunho took his hand back right away. Wooyoung threw the snack bag over the table and slithered his way besides Yeosang, but he scooted away.

“You have no right to tell us that after what you and San did in my bed.”

“I don’t understand. We did get a room.”

“Yeah. My room.”

“Well you weren’t very specific. You didn’t tell me which room.”

Having heard or dealt with enough, Yeosang stuck his earphones out from his pocket and started untangling them, until Wooyoung stopped him. “I didn’t come here to annoy you more.”

“Well, congrats, you managed.”

“Can I apologise? Yeosangie? Yeoyeo? Chicken little? Pumpkin pie? Please?”

“No. Because you’ll do it again. Just give me the snacks.”

Wooyoung hugged the snack bag to his chest, and leaned his cheek on the table, right next to Yeosang. He gave him the puppy eyes, the pout, the whine, but Yeosang didn’t falter. Not like Wooyoung had ever managed to soften him up, but it never hurt to try. The fact that he took his snacks was enough to tell him that he wasn’t mad.

Out of his bag, Yeosang stuck out three notebooks, all of them hardback, with magnetic closure. One was of black leather, with a silver ring as a magnet. The second one was thinner and smaller, with sticky notes poking out from in between the pages, and a picture of Harley Quinn on the cover. The third one was even smaller, also black and simple, with the ‘Uncharted 4’ logo on it. The bigger notebook was where he wrote the long texts, and quotes. In the Harley Quinn one he wrote quick notes and reminders, and in the smallest one wrote psychological terms and definitions. He opened the tiny one, with a sleek fountain pen as a bookmark to an empty page. He was there to read out of boredom, Wooyoung was writing and printing his articles, and Yunho was there to chill for one more hour, so he continued reading his manga.

Underneath the table, Yeosang gently hit his knee against Yunho’s. When he drew his attention, he stuck one post-it note to the page he was reading, on which he wrote ‘Do you have any classes today’. Yunho made a mental note to scream times two when he’ll get home, waited a few seconds, after which he took his phone out and hid it in between the pages, wide enough for Yeosang to see. He opened the notes app, where he wrote ‘yes why’. After more seconds had passed, Yeosang took the post-it note away and continued reading. Or so it appeared. He took his one headphone off, only to put it back the next second. He had pulled his legs away, crossing and hiding them underneath him. Then he took another note on which he scribbled down ‘was wondering if we can talk about the arrangement’.

Wooyoung stood up from the table, heading where the printers were, flipping his student card in his hand. As soon as he was far enough, Yunho leaned in. “Sure, what about?”

“Oh, just,” Yeosang’s voice cracked, and although he wanted to sink his face into that book, Yunho found it cute. He turned his head away to clear his throat. “We still have to make a story up.”

“Sure thing. You wanna have dinner?”

“Huh?”

“…We can talk over dinner.”

“Dinner. Yeah. We could. Sure. You mean, somewhere? Or, casual dinner? Or, I don’t know.”

Yunho needed to take five to send his brain to the laundromat real quick, but there was no way in the world that sounded normal. He wanted to order in and eat while watching gameplays. But now that the opportunity had arose, he kind of wanted to take it. Kind of. Not too much. “Either. Either is good. You could…come over if you want.”

“Your place?”

“Yeah.”

Yeosang’s hand had sweated so much over the page that it had become slightly crumpled. “When?”

With the corner of his eye, Yunho saw Wooyoung walking back. “Six?”

Yeosang nodded.

*

With his headphones on, and with half of his face underneath his fluffy comforter, Yeosang stood underneath a sheltered spot by the front door, drawing stick figured with his foot in the thin layer of snow while he waited for Yunho. The snowfall had not been that abundant that day, but the bushes and hedges were nicely coated.

His heart became dandelion puffs when he saw Yunho approaching in large steps, and he smiled to his heart’s content because no one could see. Yunho had nothing in his hands. For a moment, Yeosang was happy that maybe he forgot about the matching sweaters. Until he opened his padded coat like a smuggler hiding contraband, saying “Guess what I’m hiding.” And revealing the sweaters Yeosang already dreaded. They hid inside the bathrooms to change before heading to the party. Yunho pulled his on, then held Yeosang’s out for him to just pull down his head. As Yeosang adjusted it, with his pinkie finger, Yunho put back Yeosang’s pink wavy locks to their original place. “Are we done here?” Yeosang mumbled, his cheeks flushed.

“No. I have something else for you.” He put on a headband with a mistletoe attached to it on Yeosang’s head. “There. Very cute.”

“You’re taking this too seriously.”

And Yunho put on a matching headband, turning to the mirror to fix his hair. “Really? Didn’t think so.” He took both their jackets and headed out. “You’re very cute.”

“You too.”

Outside the room there were two guys also wearing Christmas sweaters with lights attached to them, with two red cups in their hands. They both recognised Yunho, and went to greet him. Noticing the similarities between his and Yeosang’s outfits, one of them asked “You boyfriends or something? Not very subtle.”

Yunho waved the question away with his hand. “You wish you were as cute as us.”

He left their jackets atop the pile where the others were, placed an arm on Yeosang’s upper back and lead him inside.

There were up to fifteen people, maybe twenty, sitting on the floor and windowsill, armrests, and only one took the entire couch. In the shared kitchen was the buffet and drinks, much overly decorated with lights, tinsel, and fake snow over the counters. Yunho found the rest of his group there, screaming at each other instead of a normal hello. “This is Yeosang. The one I corrupted to come with me today. He’s a psychology student, and a sweetie-pie.” 

Warming up to the new group went a little slow for Yeosang, until Yunho brought up the games he played. From there, it was Yunho who was starting to feel left out. They sat in a circle on the floor while they told Yeosang about their future plans to develop their own game. Yunho, having heard that story before, used it as an excuse to look at Yeosang over the rim of the cup he was drinking from, and how the lights in his background made his rosy hair look like a halo. He shifted closer to him, looked at Yeosang’s empty cup, and taking it to refill it. When he returned to the circle of friends, his spot next to Yeosang had been taken by the person he considered his best friend from his course. Yunho passed Yeosang his cup, getting a near hand cramp when he heard the guy bringing the subject of liking guys up.

“What about you?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Yeosang nodded, not giving any verbal response.

“Oh, and do you have a boyfr-”

“Yeosang-ah, they have a karaoke set in the other room.” Yunho said, tugging at Yeosang’s sleeve. “Please.”

“Sure.” He nodded, then turned back to the other guy. “You too?”

“I- Yeah.”

In that other room there were six other people, all on the floor laughing among spilled drinks at how bad the guy’s singing was. Yunho held onto Yeosang for support, almost spitting out his drink when the dude singing started dancing the choreography too. He was applauded as if after a proper concert, then looked around the room for the next person. Yunho raised his hand, then looked towards Yeosang. “Can we go?”

“Um.”

“Please.” 

“…I don’t sing that well, actually.”

“Sure you do. Wooyoung sent me recordings.”

Yunho passed Yeosang the blue microphone, and he kept the pink one. They scrolled through the list of songs, looking for one they both knew. Having reached the near end of the list, not yet agreeing to anything, they both gasped, pointing at the same song with so much enthusiasm, they they tapped the screen and the song was already loading.

They both fumbled around, forgetting to divide the parts and to warm their voices up. A second before the song started, they agreed on singing the entire song together, with Yunho taking the higher parts.

Their song of choice was ‘Moonlight drawn by Clouds’ by Gummy. One of Yunho's drunk crying songs. He held the microphone relaxed in one hand, his eyes on the sparkle on Yeosang’s eyes, who held his blue microphone with both hands to his chest. Yunho opened his mouth to sing, but Yeosang had closed his eyes, fully immersed in the song.

_You don’t have to say it, but I know_

His voice was smooth like ice reflected, with a certain roughness to it, like slowly stepping into snow, and low enough to remain gentle. He was shy. That was something everyone in the room could see. Even so, they remained quiet, and some even held hands.

_There’s only one person in you, and that is me_

Yunho felt the microphone falling out his hand. The lines in his palms turned into song lines, reshaping into lyrics, and with that, words that he had wanted to say. He watched Yeosang saying them for him, smiling. He sounded better saying them anyway.

_In case you notice my trembling heart_

Yeosang opened his eyes, almost having skipped an entire line because of how distracted he became. Behind the sleeve over his mouth he smiled back. He held the microphone so tightly in his hands for the sake of its colour.

_I couldn’t even breathe loudly; that was me_

His eyes fell back closed, tilting himself a little to the side, towards the screen, to avoid Yunho’s eyes, whom even when he couldn’t see him, it still made him laugh. He knew he was looking. He was happy. His eyes spoke for him.

_I had so much fear, I only hid_

Yeosang lowered his microphone, leaving the chorus for Yunho. They both smiled like they knew something the world didn’t. When in fact, the world knew something they did not. 

_But when you call out my love, I will have the courage and look_

Yunho shook his head to return to the song, his eyes on the screen, on the lyrics he had suddenly forgotten after having cried over the same song for over ten times. His heart was at an arm’s length away from him. Memories floated over his head, right where Yeosang was looking at.

_On a frozen flower petal, I will place you_

He thought of a boy from his past who had Yeosang’s face. Who ran through the snow, and laughed when he fell. The boy had Yeosang’s voice too, for he had no other. Yunho wished he was entirely Yeosang. He was the one to blame for the pain in his chest and the one in his voice.

_In the blowing wind, one day you’ll come to me_

To Yeosang, the blue from Yunho’s hair was one that kept him warm, one that he wore during blizzards, and when he was alone. The bright light of the screen made his eyes twinkle, but they did that on their own each time he was remotely happy. His cheeks and eyes always gave it away.

_So you won’t just pass me by_

Yunho sang with a lot more passion, and louder, like he wanted someone from far away to hear him. While his eyes were closed, Yeosang looked at him, and when his eyes were open, Yeosang looked around him.

_I’m only looking at you._

Yeosang took the entire next verse, raising his hand to hold Yunho’s, who was more than a flustered mess. The warmth in his hand and cheeks was enough to melt the snow outside standing from exactly where he was. Yunho had to put his mic down to laugh his nervousness out, hugging himself to keep his chest form opening up. Singing with a smile on, Yeosang had not let go of his hand, ushering him to finish the song, but Yunho went on his side, took the hand Yeosang held the microphone with, and sung it out together. Except the last line, when both their voices cracked.

They hugged it out, with both of them laughing at only the world knew what. They laughed close to tears, with Yunho fully enveloping Yeosang, above and around. What other better way to conceal embarrassment.

After their performance, no one dared to go next. Because they enjoyed the show, or because they were just that good, they never knew. Yunho was already picking the next song, with Yeosang over his shoulder begging him not to pick ‘My Destiny’. “Okay, I won’t.” He said, as ‘My Destiny’ started playing. Yeosang politely declined, sat on the floor, and waved his hands in the air, and clenching his fist over his heart, feigning a heartbreak, when Yunho pointed at him while he sang 

_Looking at you, I call you silently_

With a pained look on his face, Yeosang acted out being shot in the heart, falling to his side. Yunho kneeled before him, immersed in the song and so, so conscious of what he was singing, he touched Yeosang’s face. There were people watching them, but to Yunho, they were background noise. Lacking the courage to tell him not to, Yeosang stiffened under his touch, as featherlight as it was. He was the first one to realise the song had ended, and stood up awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you sing with me?”

_Because I wanted to hear you sing, Because I couldn’t take it,_ Yeosang bit back from saying. “Didn’t really fit the song.” He fanned his hands over his face while walking along the hallway to the windows. “Am I allowed to take this off? I’m boiling.”

“Me too, but you have to endure it, for Christmas!”

“I don’t care about Christmas.”

Yunho gasped. “Wash your mouth with soap right now.”

“…Whatever cools me down.” Yeosang concluded, walking away from the window and towards where the cold drinks were, but Yunho hooked his finger over the back of Yeosang’s collar, holding him back. “What?”

“Listen.”

“To what?” Yunho pointed ahead, to the main room, where slow music was playing. “Hyung…” 

“Please.” 

Yeosang sighed. “Bring me a cranberry old fashioned with five ice cubes and we’ll talk after.” He took off his headband and brushed his hair back. He probably shouldn’t have done that. Yunho was gone in the next second. He went straight to the kitchen, mixed and garnished the cocktail himself, and waited until Yeosang saw him for him tot take a sip right in front of him. Defeated, Yeosang shook his head, waited until the cocktail got cold enough, drank half of it, and handed the other half back to Yunho without even looking at him. Yunho grinned and took the glass. One cocktail became two and two became empty bottles of cranberry juice and whiskey. Yeosang perched up the counter, took two straws, one inside the whiskey bottle, and the other in the cranberry juice one. It ended up with Yunho falling on the floor with a stomachache from having laughed so much, and whiskey almost coming out of Yeosang’s nose. They mixed the last proper cocktail in a cup with ice cubes, mixed it well, and both drinking from the same cup, sipping through the straws at the same time. They were onto their next cocktail when they saw the bottles nearly empty, so they stormed out of the kitchen and to where the slow music came from.

They held both their hands, neither of them with the initiative to touch the other, but their fingers, by themselves, seemed to crawl up each other’s arms, until Yeosang’s fingers were comfortably laced at the back of Yunho’s neck, and Yunho’s hands, in the end, found purchase on Yeosang’s waist. Dizzy, they swung from side to side, as if sailing, and in slow circles —dancing.Neither of them heard the music clearly, nor did they remember what day of the week it was. They looked at the corners of each other’s lips, at their cheeks, chuckling nervously when their eyes would meet. Yunho looked for an opening, a moment when Yeosang would not look anywhere on his face. That moment soon came when the song ended and Yeosang looked towards the screen to see which song came next. Yunho took this chance and kissed his cheek. Gently, with enough milliseconds for Yeosang to pull away. But he didn’t. He took his hands away from around Yunho, using them to cover his face. “Ah, hyung.” He chuckled. Yunho never let him go. He closed his eyes to take the moment in better when the younger hit his forehead against his chest.

“I wish you were him.” Yunho said. Whispered. To no one, but himself.

Yeosang heard him, however, and revealed his face again. “Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

With pain and great effort, Yunho untangled his hands from around him. A slow song was playing. A song he would have remembered if he was happier. “Gonna get a drink. Be back in a second.”

He went back to the kitchen to refill his glass, but the drink he was looking for had ran out, and the bottles were gone too. Throwing his cup away, he went for a beer with low alcohol percentage. He popped it open, went by the window, took some snow from the sill into his palm, and washed his burning cheeks with it. He wanted to sink his entire face.

A new feeling surged through him. But then again, many misunderstood feelings surged through him when he was tipsy. Things he had felt before, but because of his state, he often mistook. He allowed a few minutes to pass, and decided to head back. On his way to the living room, his colleagues stopped him to try and convince him to leave and go to another party in town. Yunho turned the invitation down, and for every reason he gave, the others treated it as an excuse and found a solution around it so he could join. When he’s had enough of being persuaded, he said he’d rather stay with his boyfriend. That was the only reason they took seriously. He removed himself from the conversation before they’d catch on and ask him question about the new said partner.

Yunho went back to the room where everyone was. After having scanned the room through all those weak lights, he realised Yeosang wasn’t there. He searched the bathrooms, the hallways, and once again through the both rooms.

He left the bottle by the door and sprinted outside, jumping three stairs at once, and when he reached the outside, he stood strong at how the cold slapped him in the face as a reminder that Yeosang hated being left alone during parties. Ready to ask him why he left so soon, the realisation hit Yunho in the face worse than the first time. Yeosang didn’t leave because he was left alone. He left because of what prompted Yunho to leave to begin with.

Yeosang was right up ahead, arms crossed and head tucked in. When Yunho saw he had forgotten his jacket back at the party, he ran, unwrapping the padded coat from around him, ready to toss it over him. “Yeosang-ah! Wait!” And when he turned around, Yunho was the one who froze.

Snowflakes landed in their finest form in Yeosang’s hair and eyelashes, and his cheeks were deeply flushed. Yunho gulped, and although it hurt him, he dragged himself back to the moment at hand, brushed the snow off Yeosang’s shoulders and wrapped the coat around him. “But you’ll be cold.” He protested, but Yunho had already laid a hand on his shoulder and walked over to his dorm, which was two buildings away.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna come back for you. I was just talking to a friend.”

Yunho had planned to wait until they reached a warmer spot so he can apologise, but he felt like Yeosang’s silence was loud enough.

“It’s okay.”

He didn’t know enough about Yeosang to cheer him up; he was not worried about their little arrangement either. He was not a big fan of making people upset in general. And he was even less of a fan of not being able to do anything about it.

“Are we cool?”

Yeosang pulled the coat further over his shoulder. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not gonna drop the arrangement just because of this, if that’s what scares you.”

“I’m not scared. I don’t care about it.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m not using you for it."

"I'm not worried about that." He input the passcode to his dorm building, and before he closed the door behind him, they shook the snow off their hair, shoes and clothes. As soon as the door closed, Yeosang exhaled, took the coat off, and handed it back. “Thank you. Have fun.”

“Have fun?”

“I thought you’re going back.”

He would have. He was tempted to, but not as much as he was when he left. Now that they were alone and thankfully still in good terms, Yunho didn’t feel like going back where the people were. “Nah. Don’t feel like it.”

Yeosang leaned his back against the wall, sleeves over his hands, looking down at the snow melting off his boots.

“Are you busy?” Yunho mumbled. Yeosang mumbled a negative answer. “D’you wanna hang out?”

“Why?”

“…Why?”

“I know you want to go to the party. You don’t have to stay with me.”

“If I wanted to go, I would have gone.”

“Well it’s clearly not me whom you want to be with.” Yeosang retaliated.

Yunho scratched the back of his head, his eyes diverted. He had no good reasons anymore. He was left with excuses that, without context, would make things worse. “…I can explain.”

“…No need. What do you want to do now?”

Yunho shrugged, a sight pout on his lips. “Come over? We could order food and play stuff.”

At first Yeosang said nothing, then broke into a little smile, and went up the stairs, expecting Yunho to follow him. They were already at his place anyway.

Yeosang’s game collection was slightly bigger than Yunho's, and he recognised most of them, but what caught his eye was a colourful looking one he hadn’t played before called ‘Lovers in a Dangerous Spacetime’. The pizza boxes lied untouched between them, as they were both extremely focused, screaming in tandem when they’d take damage. In that same night, they had found out one of each other’s flaws. They did not know which one of them was more competitive, and aggressive, and were almost at each other’s throats, judging each other’s decision making and ordering each other around, but when they had finished collecting enough space bunnies, they went back to speaking softly to each other. Neither touched on the subject of the party again.

*

They had not talked at all the next day. Nothing happened, just Yunho passed out as soon as his cheek hit the pillow. There was no one around him to tell him to take his jeans off. He went to bed in a planking position, and woke up in a planking position, but with his head facing the other side. When he woke up, it was dark outside. His neck was sore, his legs were stiff, and he had half his pillow stamped on the skin of his face. He had also failed to recognise his own room.

Somehow he stood up, took his jeans off after being in them for more than twenty-four hours. He tossed them somewhere along with the rest of his clothes, and jumped in the shower, where he also brushed his teeth, washed his face, and sung an entire Céline Dion concert in his own version of English.

Once stepped out, he checked his phone for the first time that day while drying his hair. There was a series of messages from Wooyoung, telling him how Yeosang told him about their night together. And Yunho, being the second purest soul, he replied with ‘Yes it was a great night :) we played a lot’. The second message was from Choi Jongho, about the jacket Yeosang left behind. Yunho told him he was going to pick it up in a bit.

He drank enough water for five days, made sure he looked presentable, took a cereal bar to eat on the way, and finally left. However, once the snow hit his socked feet, he realised he had left in his sliders. So he went back.

After he picked up the jacket, he made his way to Yeosang’s block, and waited by the front door for him to reply, but someone who lived there opened the door for him, right in time when Yeosang told him his room number. As he went up the stairs, he thought about how many times he should knock at the door. Or if he should knock at all. Or just leave the jacket there. He wasn’t going to leave the jacket there, for he had to search for subtle ways to apologise to him.

All that turned out to be unnecessary when he saw Yeosang already waiting for him with the door open. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He dusted the snow off the jacket and handed it over. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

Yunho nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, and doing his little foot dance because he couldn’t sit still. “You good?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m good.”

They both nodded awkwardly.

“I should…go?”

“Actually,” Yeosang said once Yunho turned around to leave. “I was just…making dinner…You wanna stay? If you want.”

Yunho fidgeted around with his hands, hiding them behind his back, and scratching his neck. “Um, if it’s okay.”

“It’s okay.” The moment he stepped foot into the room, Yunho’s stomach growled. “It’s definitely okay.” Yeosang chuckled.

“In my defence, I literally just woke up.”

“I was gonna ask what that thing on your face is. That line.”

“My pillow.”

“Ah.”

Yunho took his shoes off and placed them on the silicone doormat by door. Unlike his room, where he had to share the kitchen with other three people, Yeosang had his own little kitchenette in the back. On the right there was his bed, and next to it, the desk, above which there were two long shelves where Yeosang had completely displayed his manga and action figure collection. Music was playing at its lowest volume from a speaker which sat on the counter.

Yeosang rolled his sleeves back up and went back to washing the rice before putting it back into the cooker.

“Can I help you with something?”

“No, I’m good. I’m almost done with the veggies, then I need to…Actually, you can fry two eggs while I brown the beef.”

Yunho nodded confidently. And he was confident too, until he remembered all the times he tried to crack an egg and he somehow made it explode. Luckily, Yeosang had one of those tiny egg pans, so that was one trouble out of the way. He took the egg and gently tapped it against the counter, then one time harder, and when he saw it leak, he immediately poured the whole thing into the tiny pan.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I- I did it.”

“You cracked an egg. Wow.”

While waiting, Yunho took the speaker in his hands and turned the volume up. He frowned in concentration, not knowing where he had heard the song before. It was a song that brought him heavy memories. Not bad ones, but the kind that his heart was not ready for. “…What song is this?”

“It’s called ‘One for the Money’. Escape the Fate? Do you know them?”

He did know them. Very well. He used to listen to them back when he was in school. It was one of his top three favourite bands. With his back against the counter, the speaker in his hand, and while the song played, he had a lump forming itself in his neck. He didn’t want to cry, but he wasn’t the happiest either. Whirls of pictures and songs and nights when he cried himself to sleep with a broken heart rose in his chest, that he forgot where he was for a second.

When the song ended, Yeosang was already assembling the two bowls of rice, putting a lot of effort into the plating. He took the two bowls of bibimbap to the desk, after which he went to open the window to clear the smell of smoke out.

“You really like that song, huh.”

Yeosang sat on the bed with the bowl in his lap, and Yunho sat at the desk chair. “I used to. Thanks for the food.”

“No worries. Sorry you had to wait.” He stood up and returned with both the speaker and the phone. “Wait, I have another song for you.”

Yunho smiled. “You’re not about to pull some Avril Lavigne on me, right?” Yunho asked, as ‘My Happy Ending’ started playing.

Both of them laughed. Yeosang’s laugh was sincere, like a child’s. Yunho’s was nostalgia tainted. That was another song who brought him back to a place he tried to escape. But the foodand the atmosphere were good, and the person in front of him was better. While they ate, they shuffled through Yeosang’s old playlist, both of them knowing every song, jamming to them, crying over them when necessary, and singing along after they were done eating. They went through everything from Evanescence to All Time Low to Paramore. An hour of them just listening, singing, and talking about the songs like they were contemplating existence had passed.

While Linkin Park’s ‘What I’ve Done’ played, Yeosang went to make Yunho toffee hot chocolate while acting in his own video with the butterscotch chips pack in his hand. Behind him, Yunho’s eyes became teary, but he quickly rubbed them clean.

“Have you ever been in relationships before? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.” Yeosang dropped the question as quickly as Yunho dropped himself down that window last week. He landed safely on the ground. He didn’t know so much about the question landing in his heart.

He chuckled. “Do long distance relationships count?"

“They do.”

“Then yes. I’ve been in a relationship with a guy for almost a year when I was fourteen.”

Yeosang paused. “That’s a lot. How did you meet?"

“In a game. We listened to the same music and made almost the same jokes. We’ve known each other for a lot longer. Then I think I just told him that I had a crush on him. And it happened.”

Yeosang lifted his glass to his lips, but in the end he put it back down. “What was his name?”

“…He never told me. I only remember his in-game name. It was an ‘X’ then the word ‘Yakumo’, then ‘rising’. He really liked this manga called ‘Shinrei Tantei Yakumo’, so that’s where he got his name from. He was really cool. And he had a cool character name too. Everything about him was cool. I ended up making another female character just to marry him.” Yunho laughed, pulling his hoodie over his nose to he could cringe at himself in peace.

While that, Yeosang looked down at his glass. “You really liked him, huh.”

“Oh, I was ready to risk it all for him.”

“Did you two stop talking?”

“Yeah. I think our last messages with each other were ‘Merry Christmas’. Then we never talked again. He just disappeared. I felt so bad. I cried, you know!”

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was like a breakup. But you know, he never said, ‘let’s break up’, so for all I know, we’re still together. We never broke up.”

“I see you haven’t moved on.”

“A part of me did. But my teenage years are going to be eternally scarred by ‘xyakumorising’. He might have catfished me for all I know. He never told me his name, or sent me a picture with his full face. But I liked him. He was my only boyfriend.” Yunho finished his rambling and took a long sip out of his hot chocolate.

“You fell in love?”

“I guess I did.”

“…Was that song for him? The one we sang at karaoke?”

“Not for him. But it did send me back.”

“Right. I see.”

A pause.

“Your turn.”

“What was the question?”

“Dated anyone before?”

Yeosang shook his head, his lip against the rim of the mug. “Wooyoung keeps trying to set me up with guys because he is itching for double dates. But now that you’re around, he finally stopped.”

“Ah. You’re welcome.”

Not wanting his next statement to be taken as a joke, Yeosang chose to divert the conversation to a safer ground, so he suggested they played something. Yunho has never met the feeling of saying no to gaming, until then. He wanted to thank Yeosang for his talent to bring him back to the present, when Yunho’s mind was so prone to slipping back to years ago.

Thirty minutes into the game, when things turned quiet and too slow for them, Yeosang lied to Yunho, saying he got a message from Wooyoung to come over.

“Hyung,” Yeosang said before they had to part ways.

“Yeah?”

“The guy you told me about earlier…Is he the one you talked about at the party?”

Yunho scratched the nape of his neck, eyes down. “I’m sorry I said that to you.”

Yeosang’s lips twitched into an uncertain smile. “After all this is over, I’ll help you look for him.” Then he turned around to leave without waving Yunho goodbye.

He entered the passcode to Wooyoung’s block and made his way to his door.

San opened it, and was met with a crying Yeosang on the other side of him. He hugged him with no second thought.

When Wooyoung saw, he was ready to tear the world in two.

*

“So…Revise.” Yeosang walked around the room with his fountain pen to the shell of his ear and his trustworthy notebook in his hand. It was another notebook, peach coloured with cherry blossoms on it. Yunho didn’t know what he wrote in that one. “We’ve been ‘dating’ for three months,” He said, Emphasising the quotation marks with his index and middle finger. “We’ve met at Uni. We’ve had a pretty calm ‘relationship’ with no fights so far. You’ve met my dad through a video call and he’s cool with us being a thing.”

Yunho hugged his pillow tighter. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“Anything else we should cover?”

“I still can’t believe you’re taking notes.”

“I want to make sure our stories match. The meeting needs to go smooth.” He closed his notebook and sat on the other side of the bed. “Tell me about your parents?”

“So suddenly?”

“I don’t mean family stuff or drama. Like…basics.”

“…My mom’s into gardening. She loves collecting succulents. She talks to them. Some of them grow into creepy flowers, and no one’s allowed to touch them. My dad does this thing where he’ll buy old cars, fix them, them sell them for more. Also he collects Digimon cards.” 

“Interesting.” Yeosang nodded, encouraging him to continue, as he wrote everything down. “Do you collect anything?”

“No. I don’t think so. But you,” He tilted his head. “You collect notebooks.”

Yeosang nodded, proud of himself.

“What about your parents?”

Turning his head towards the window to watch the snowfall, Yeosang crossed his arms over his chest. “Dad’s an accountant. He always carries foreign novels with him. He’s into those.”

Yunho nodded. “…And your mom?”

Yeosang shrugged his shoulders. “No idea. I think she moved abroad. I’m not sure.” Before Yunho had time to apologise, Yeosang turned back around and picked the water bottle the Yunho wanted to drink from. “They divorced when I was fourteen. But it’s all good now.”

“I didn’t mean to bring anything back.”

Yeosang shook his head. “No, really, it’s fine. It kinda sucked back then, but now it’s cool.”

Yunho nodded, a thought having crossed his mind. But it was not the right time to share his idea. 

“I forgot to tell you.” Yeosang said while Yunho was still thinking. “I’m going home for the weekend. I need to pick some stuff up. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

“Can I walk you to the station?”

“Sure.”

*

Yunho waited for Yeosang right at the main door, already with a thin layer of snow peppered over his beanie. That day it snowed a lot more than the other, but it wasn’t as cold. The snow had become thick enough to conceal sounds, making the campus as quiet in the daylight as it was during exam season.

Yeosang greeted him with a smile and a cheerful wave with both of his hands through his sweater paws. They agreed to leave a lot earlier so they could walk it to the station, taking advantage of the survivable weather.

While Yeosang was checking the time table on his phone, and clearing the snow from the screen once every two seconds, behind him Yunho was making snow bunnies. He stole two holly leaves and two fruit from a hedge they walked past. He shaped the snow into an oval, stuck the leaves to the front as ears, and the red beads in between, for the eyes. He tapped Yeosang’s shoulder and handed him the bunny.

“When did you make this?”

In the meantime, Yunho collected enough snow in his hands to make a snowball, tossing it in the air and catching it again. “Just now.”

“I almost want to name it.”

“Why won’t you?”

“Because if I do I’ll get attached to it. And I have to leave it outside the station.”

“Well if you had a rabbit, what would you name it? Like a plush one.”

“I usually name them after the people who give them to me. So if you gave me a rabbit, I’d name it…Something like ‘Yunyun’.” Yeosang said in the most dead serious tone he could. Meanwhile, the snowball melted in Yunho’s hands. 

“…Cute.”

Yunho gathered snow in his hands and threw it at Yeosang’s back, thinking he was going to retaliate, but all he did was to remain unbothered and protect the bunny in his hands. Even smoothening it up where it started to deform. But what Yunho didn’t know was that Yeosang was, in fact, collecting snow to get his revenge; when Yunho had calmed down and went back to walking next to him, Yeosang tossed it at him. In response to that, Yunho flicked snow right over Yeosang’s face. He was already plotting his counter move, but Yunho ran ahead of him out of fear, slipped over a frozen puddle, but safely landed on his side. He lied down fully over the snow and laughed at himself as loudly as he needed, with his hands over his stomach. Yeosang’s knees became weak with laugher, and had to put down the bunny so he won’t drop it.

“Karma’s never hit me that quick.” Yunho laughed, wiping away the snow off him.

“But are you okay, though? Are you hurt?” Yeosang was in his last stage of laughing, where they kind of start to sound like sobs.

“It’s too cold for pain. I’ll feel it later. Help me up?”

Yeosang picked the bunny up, and went to give Yunho a hand, but as he did, he took it back. “No, because you’re gonna pull me down with you.”

“…I almost got you.” However, that didn’t stop him. He got up by himself, fixed his gloves. “I wasn’t going to pull you.”

“You sure?”

“No.” He wrapped his arms around Yeosang’s waist, tackled him to the ground and rolling him in the snow. “I’m sorry, I know you have a train to catch.”

Yeosang giggled, and spread both his arms and legs. The snow bunny was half intact and fully camouflaged. “Just say you don’t want me to go.”

Yunho lied down in the snow besides him, with enough room between them to make snow angels. “I really don’t, though.” He ignored the way Yeosang looked at him and proceeded to move his arms and legs, blinking away all the snowflakes that had fallen into his eyes.

The backs of their fingers brushed together, over and over again, but neither pulled away. Instead they were worried about how cold each other’s hands were.

“We should probably go.” Yeosang said once he was satisfied with his snow angel. He stood up carefully not to ruin it, cleared the snow off him while waiting for Yunho. Only while he was turned around, Yeosang could look at the brightness of his hair without making it look strange. Blue strands were poking out from under the beanie. Nonetheless, they looked soft. And they looked like they tasted good too, being unable to look at Yunho’s hair without thinking about peppermint candy canes. “I’m gonna leave the bunny here.”

“It’s okay. I’ll make you another one.”

On their latter half of their walk to the station, they both had the same idea (and at the same time too) to make other tiny animals out of snow. Something in between modelling with clay and ice sculpting, because “If you can make a bunny, you can make anything else”. And everything was going well too, until Yeosang said that the bear Yunho made didn’t look like a bear at all. Yunho came to the conclusion that Yeosang didn’t know what a bear looked like, and moved on. Then Yeosang made a perfectly round snowball, with a little indent on one side, kind of like a nautilus seashell, but much curled up, and called it a baby pangolin. Yunho stopped playing under the pretext that Yeosang didn’t respect the rules of his game.

When they arrived at the station, Yeosang looked for the schedule monitors while Yunho stealthily looked up what a baby pangolin looked like. Then he got a message from Wooyoung asking him if he wanted to hang out. Yunho sent him a picture of Yeosang at the ticket desk, with Yunho holding his fingers over Yeosang’s head, like he wanted to take his beanie off. Wooyoung responded with ‘Aight stop being a boyfriend and let me know when u back’. Yunho ignored it.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve like twenty minutes left.”

They took the closest seat to the platform exit. While Yeosang looked through his bag for his power bank, Yunho saw that one of his shoelaces reached the floor. So he stepped on it, until Yeosang withdrew his foot, making the shoelaces untie completely. While Yeosang was getting his power bank to work, Yunho tried to sneakily untie his other boot too. “I hope you know I can see what you’re doing.” Yunho retreated, and while he did, Yeosang stepped on his shoelaces, giving him the same treatment. Yeosang tied his back and scooted to the other side of the bench, at a safe distance, but he underestimated how long Yunho’s legs were. “Hyung!”

“Get off your phone!” 

“And what?” 

“And talk to me!”

“I was letting you play!”

“I was playing because you weren’t talking to me!”

“Okay fine, I’m talking. Anything you want to say?”

“Yeah, I wanted to ask something.” Yunho attempted, but a man with a big suitcase had decided to station right besides their bench while he checked the timetables, so he waited until he left. “As I was saying…I wanted to ask…Should we get each other something for Christmas?”

Yeosang put his backpack down, holding it in between his knees, and took his gloves off. Ahead of him, underneath the schedule monitor, was a Christmas tree decorated with fake tickets and blue train toys, around which were heaps of cotton sprinkled to make it look like snow. “I never knew how to answer this question.” A little child ran up to the tree, in one second of being unsupervised, and started pulling onto the train toys, but right before the tree fell onto him, his dad rushed over and held it back. Instead of scolding him, he played with him, preventing the kid from hurting himself. “I’ve always thought that…if you want to get someone something for Christmas, you get them something. I’ve never thought of it as an exchange thing.”

“No, I agree.” In another second of being unsupervised, the toddler had managed to remove one train toy and proudly show it to his dad, who did not know what to do with it. At that, the mother came to collect them both, and tried to put the train back. Both Yunho and Yeosang smiled. “But I didn’t want this to…be too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I- I wanted to get you something. But I didn’t want you to think it’s weird.”

Yeosang shook his head. “Was thinking about doing the same.”

There were ten minutes left until Yeosang had to go. Time in which Yunho wanted to say so much, not necessarily productive. He just never ran out of things to say. He had almost stepped into sensitive territory, but both of them played it off well.

“Do you want something from Pohang?”

“Like what?”

“Not a Christmas gift. But like a…”

“Souvenir?”

“Yeah.”

“…A seashell.”

“…You’re making me go to the sea in this weather?”

“Two seashells.”

“…Fine.”

“I was joking.”

“I’ll get you seashells.”

“If you get me seashells, I won’t let you in my house.”

“You’ll be the fake boyfriend-less one for Christmas, not me.”

“Forgot about that.”

Yeosang checked the time and schedule again to be sure, then gathered his stuff and pointed to the platform exit. They wrapped up in clothes again, and underneath his scarf, Yunho laughed at how the wind almost swept Yeosang off his feet. He walked behind him, connecting his chest to his back. “It’s okay, hyung will protect you from the bad wind.” Yunho said, and Yeosang sneezed. “The fuck did I just say?”

“Thank you, hyungnim.”

When the train came into view, Yunho patted Yeosang’s head, where he remembered his hair parting was, and pushed down like it was a button. When Yeosang turned around to ask what his problem was, Yunho opened his arms. “Hug.”

Yeosang looked around, and reluctantly walked over to allow Yunho’s arms to eat him up. Yunho hunched forward until his cheek touched the top of Yeosang’s head. 

Yeosang clenched his fist. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care.”

“You said Sunday.”

“I know.” He winked, finally stepping into the train and waving Yunho goodbye one more time.

Yunho followed him from the other side, wanting to see him safely to his seat.

There were two minutes left before departure, and those two have been staring at each other through the window. Yeosang took his glove off and placed his palm against the window. Yunho removed his glove too and leaned it against the cold glass, parallel to Yeosang’s hand. Yunho’s hand was big enough to fully cover Yeosang’s. On the other side of the window, the difference between their hands was exactly what Yeosang was looking so fondly at. He tilted his hand a little to the right, enough for his fingers to fit in between Yunho’s, then he gathered his hand into a fist, still against the window.

Yunho exhaled softly, and the thin layer of ice beneath his hand had fully melted.

The train started moving, and Yeosang waved him goodbye one more time. All Yunho could do was stare. He walked along the still slow train, and with a leap of faith, he drew a shaky heart with his nail against the corner of the window. Putting his glove back on, he tried to erase the memory of what he had just done as if trying to wash off a tattoo with plain water.

After he left the station, he went through town to fill the hole in his heart. He walked through the Christmas pop-up shops, the little holiday market ten minutes away from the University, and because he had time on his hands, he did a bit of Christmas shopping for his parents too. He bought the first three plant-looking holiday items he found for his mom, and a small, collectible, vintage car with Christmas lights around it for his dad, and called it a day.

But on his way back, he walked past this pretty big Christmas store, with an animatronic reindeer buggy carriage in the centre of it. Right in the back, there was a little station where people could buy personalised plushies, where couples and kids roamed around. Yunho’s heart swelled.

He left the shop with a small white rabbit in his hand. It had a teal ribbon around its neck, with ‘Yunyun’ written on it.

Risking to hear about it for the rest of his life, he told Wooyoung everything. Not because he wanted to, but because he needed his help to put the rabbit box in front of Yeosang’s door before he arrives. He expected Wooyoung to laugh at him and to have exaggerated reactions, but everything Yunho told him had softened him until he physically melted down his bed, complaining about his heart hurting, and how he was sad there wasn’t more to tell.

*

The next evening, Yeosang showed up at his door with Yunyun in his hand, and a white and pink paper bag in his other. Yunho smiled instantly and opened the door wide to welcome him in. He had not expected him to visit, but he had no room in his heart to ask questions. Yeosang handed him the paper bag, inside which were four slices of chocolate pumpkin cake, with extra chocolate chips. “There were still some left at his hour?”

“No. I got them yesterday, and kept them in my fridge. Fighting for this cake is worse than trying to get concert tickets. It’s ridiculous.”

Yunho laughed and went to the kitchen to bring forks, stopping to exchange a few words with his flatmate (kitchen mate?) who was complaining about the fine he has to pay for smoking indoors. Yunho returned to the room rolling his eyes.

“When did you get back?”

“Like an hour ago.”

“I could have picked you up.”

“I wanted to surprise you, but you were ahead of me. What were you doing?” Yeosang noticed how every electronic device in the room was turned off. “Were you getting ready to leave?”

“I might have. Was getting kind of bored. But now it’s fine.” Yunho threw the pile of clothes on the chair back on the bed for Yeosang to sit, then he perched up on the desk. “How was home?”

“Oh, it was fun. I didn’t take my keys with me because I thought dad would be home by then, but he wasn’t and I had to kill time for three more hours.”

“Out in the cold?”

“Yeah. Except that, everything was fine."

Yunho nodded, bringing his legs together and hunching forward a little. He had a very interesting way of appearing as if he was small, when he wasn’t. When he’d laugh, he’d hit people with so much velocity, that their shirt would be in danger of flying away and catching fire, but he held things in his hands like they were a newborn chick. He was gentle in a lot of departments. Eating was not one of them. Yeosang blinked and there were three slices of cake left. They weren’t very big to begin with, but Yeosang didn’t think Yunho would practically inhale them.

Yeosang lied Yunyun on the desk, besides the plate, and scratched his fur as if it was a real rabbit. “Thank you for the bunny,” He said, watching Yunho’s cheek grow more colour despite him trying to hide them under his hand. He was looking down and poking at his cake. “You don’t like it?”

“I do.” He answered right away. It wasn’t that he didn’t have no appetite, or that he wasn’t in the mood. “I just,” It was that the butterflies in his stomach were forming colonies and barely had any room to fly. “Sorry. I’ve been spacing out a lot.”

Yeosang looked up, still with the fork in his mouth. “Are you thinking about the guy from that game?”

Yunho giggled. “How’d you know? Am I that obvious?”

“I’ve gotten the gist of what makes you nostalgic.” Yunho smiled awkwardly. “I can talk to you about it if you want.” He said, dividing his slice of cake in smaller bits, eating far more slowly. He took Yunyun in his hand and held him on his thigh.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind talking to you about it. If it bothers you.”

“…Didn’t remember anything in particular. I think these days I’m mostly concerned about why I haven’t moved on yet. Like, completely. People called me crazy, or laughed at me. Which is fine, I know it’s funny.”

“…I won’t laugh at you.”

Yeosang lifted his legs up to his chest, hugging himself, with the plush rabbit in the space between his legs and chest. “Since my parents divorced, I got this habit of getting attached to people I’ve met online way faster than I should. And I got ghosted more times than I can count…So I get you. I know what you’re going through. I don’t think you’re crazy. And it’s okay if he meant a lot to you.”

Yunho kicked Yeosang in the knee softly. “I won’t ghost you.”

With a pessimistic smile on, Yeosang kicked him back. “We’ll see.”

“I won’t.” 

“Okay.” Yeosang said in a whisper. Yunho spread his leg up to the bed, caging Yeosang from a side, then dragged his foot over the younger’s, softly patting it. Yeosang placed his other foot over Yunho’s, and Yunho went in with his other foot. One was grinning, brimming with a childish joy, the other bore a timid smile. One that said ‘I’m doing this for you’.

Yunho pushed Yeosang all the way back with his foot only, then they connected their soles, pressing and pushing each other further back. Yunho had more resistance, but Yeosang had more strength, nearly making the other tip back in his chair. Yunho laughed while he admitted defeat, while Yeosang looked at him with a smile that once again read ‘I’m still doing this for you’.

The quiet moments between them grew wider the more the distance between them grew smaller. Both eyed the console and the door, thinking of the two as quite a literal escape, but neither brought it up. They were alone, and comfortable, and playing with each other’s feet like they’d hold hands.

“When are we going to see your parents?” Yeosang asked, with a hidden tone of finality. His left foot was now over Yunho’s. No one wanted to move, and no one wanted the other to move either.

“The day after tomorrow?”

With a nod, Yeosang untangled their feet, pulling his sweater on. Yunho regretted not having suggested they played longer. He would have let Yeosang win if it meant him staying longer. “I’m gonna go rest for a while. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

Yunho quirked his eyebrow. “Or tomorrow?”

“...Fine.” 

They lingered by the door, deciding with themselves who should say goodbye first, and how. Not saying goodbye meant staying, and they both wanted that. Yeosang smiled truthfully for the first time, taking a step back one time per second. His eyes were both careful and caring, drawing safety into Yunho’s eyes, until he became so calm, that no goodbye would leave a hole in his heart, no matter how small. Before turning to leave for good, Yeosang tossed a small, red pouch, which Yunho effortlessly caught. Inside the pouch there were four white seashells. Intact, with no missing bits, or scratches. Inside each shell, a heart was drawn.

*

Same old songs played in Yeosang's ears while he waited by the campus gates. Several songs which still seemed to trigger memories from Yunho. He wrapped his gloved hand around the strap of his backpack and took in a deep breath, eyes closed. The air smelled heavy with smoke and soil, the grounds were quiet, the snow heaps thick and sound-concealing.

Moving forward from his peripheral into the centre of his line of sight was a hand holding a snow bunny. Yeosang took it without even checking to see whom it was from. He still had Yunyun in his backpack, along with many other gifts. Yunho’s bag was also voluminous.

“Nervous?” Both of them asked. By then, they were used to speaking in tandem. They still struggled with whom should answer. “You first.” They said.

“I’m not nervous about meeting them.” Yeosang went on ahead. “I’m nervous about them not liking the gifts.”

“The what?”

“Christmas gifts?”

“…You got them stuff?”

“…I’m supposed to be a boyfriend. I did my research about what a boyfriend should do. Wooyoung told me he bought San’s family gifts the first Christmas. They got together around wintertime too.”

“…Isn’t that like…for the family to like you better?”

Nervousness circled Yeosang’s stomach, his brain overworking to find a safe answer. “…It’s common sense, hyung.”

Yunho hummed. “My mom got you something too. She asked me about the stuff you like.”

“And what did you say?”

“Not telling. I think you’ll like it, don’t worry.” And patted Yeosang’s head. Surrounded by white, his hair looked like those sparkle finish ruban ribbons people made gift bows out of. Yunho was sorry for not giving him one instead of the mistletoe headband, back at the party.

“Why’re you smiling?”

“You’re cute.”

Yeosang looked at him offended. “What?”

“You’re cute?”

“Well then you’re cuter.” It was sweet, but it came out of Yeosang’s mouth as if it was an insult.

Yunho would have slipped if it wasn’t for Yeosang walking ahead of him, leaving footprints behind. He followed his steps. Literally. He did so with so much passion, that he bumped his chest against Yeosang’s back when his steps came to a halt. “You’re gonna slip again.”

Yunho had something witty to say to that, but decided not to. Instead, he linked their elbows. “If I do, you fall with me.”

“You’ll be the one cushioning me, I hope you know.”

“You don’t have to fall for me to cushion you.” He pulled his arm away, bent his knees, and looped his arms all around Yeosang. “I can cushion you like this too.”

“…I’m good, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” But hadn’t let him go until they had to cross the street. Yeosang ignored how people who walked past them smiled. Unlike Yunho, who smiled right back at them proudly. “People are looking at us.”

“I know. It’s because you have the energy of a chihuahua.”

“No. It’s because of the hair. It stands out.”

“…Feel free to stand out more. I’ll be here.”

“I can’t, I have to be here to cushion you.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m gonna hug you the entire way, little man, don’t test me.”

Yeosang groaned softly under his collar, eyes down at the path clear of snow, and held his hand out. “Do this instead.”

“Qué?” Yunho asked. One second later it finally clicked, and he imitated Yeosang’s pose, also holding his hand raised for no reason.

“I meant hold my hand?”

“Oh, okay.”

Neither of them expected that to do wonders to Yunho’s mood. He was finally tame, out of all dangers of slipping. Except when they crossed the park and he pretended to have indeed stepped in another frozen puddle just to see how far Yeosang would be willing to be there for him. He let him go instantly, taking his hand back when he was physically safe. Also, except when Yunho stole Yeosang’s beanie, tossed a handful a snow in, and put it back. “Ah, hyung!” Yeosang yelped, shaking the snow out the beanie and off his head. From there, Yunho got cocky, thinking Yeosang could not reach his head. He was wrong. Yeosang pointed to a couple walking their dog, somewhere to Yunho’s left. While he was busy cooing and making baby noises, the younger scooped snow in his palm, jumped high, took Yunho’s beanie off, and smashed the snowball against his head like he slam dunked. “You can’t use dogs to distract me, that’s so cruel!” Yunho whined, sifting the snow off. When he lifted his head, he found Yeosang arrowing finger hearts at him as if through a slingshot, then walking off. He kissed the last heart before shooting it, falling completely frozen when Yunho caught it within his hand and holding it over his mouth.

They did not know who initiated the hand holding next time.

For the last five minutes for their walk, Yeosang was on a call with his dad, keeping him updated. It seemed he wasn’t entirety cool with them travelling on a weather like that. He didn’t bring the Christmas visit up, only letting Yeosang know he was going to spend it with his girlfriend. From how his tone shifted after his dad mentioning the lady, Yunho noticed Yeosang wasn’t very fond of her. They had arrived at the station in the meantime, and Yeosang gestured him to go on ahead while he finishes there.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, gently tugging on Yunho’s sleeve. He jerked his head towards the monitor, searched for their train number, but was met with a red dot right next to it, and the word ‘cancelled’ attached. Leaving Yunho there for the moment, Yeosang rushed to the nearest info desk, remaining still when he saw the queue of over twelve. The several people ahead of him had queries about the same journey as theirs. He overheard the lady saying there’s been a snowstorm close to Gwangju’s periphery, which resulted in trees falling over the rails, and one train already being stuck there. He ran back to Yunho to share the news, but he had moved on from his spot, and was now walking around close to the exit, with someone on the phone. Keeping him in his visual radar, Yeosang took his phone and searched for alternatives. The next time he looked at Yunho, he was on the floor, with his knees to his chest, texting.

“Hyung.” Yeosang sat next to him. “We could take something else. It's okay.”

Yunho said nothing until he finished sending his message. “They said they’d come pick us up. But I don’t want them to. Heard it’s pretty bad there.”

“…So what do we do?”

“Dunno. We wait it out. If the next one is also cancelled, then we’ll see how safe it is to take a bus.”

“Okay.”

They walked around the station, window shopping and holding hands. Slow, while the world was rushing. Christmas lights reflected in the tiled floor, like a crown of red flickers around their feet. They sat glued to each other, one rubbing his knee against the other to get attention, then looking away. Yeosang loved it when Yunho looked away, for it gave him time to speak, to mouth things he did not have a voice for. As soon as he looked back, Yeosang would lower his head.

He left his bag on the bench, pocketed his wallet, and walked away without telling Yunho a word. To cheer him up, he decided to search the bakery shops there for cakes, pumpkin or chocolate, preferably both. Instead, he found pink glazed gingerbread bunnies. His mouthed shaped into a small ‘o’, then became a smile. He peeked to his left and right for a Yunho in sight, then bought six of them.

He skipped back to their seat, where Yunho was too sad too even play stuff on his phone. “Guess what I got you.” Yeosang hid the paper bag behind his back, going up and down on his tiptoes. Once Yunho drew his attention to him, he set the bag on his lap.

“…Really?”

“Really.”

Yunho hesitantly took one out, holding it between his teeth, and fed the other to Yeosang while closing the distance between them once again. Resting his head on Yeosang’s shoulder, Yunho nibbled on the gingerbread with a pout on. “I just wanted to see Monkey.”

Yeosang patted his shoulder. “Even if we don’t see him today or tomorrow, we can always go after. We’ll see him soon.”

Biting off the gingerbread bunny’s ear, Yunho giggled. “We?”

“…You. Sorry.”

“No. I like that. ‘We’. You’re totally coming with.”

Yunho finished his second gingerbread cookie in only two bites, dusted the crumbs off his hands, and stood up to stretch his limbs. “I’ll go have a look around.”

Looking at the back of Yunho’s blue hair getting smaller into the distance, and disappearing when he turned around the corner, Yeosang bit his lip worryingly. He held his backpack close, not as out of fear of it disappearing, but as a reminder of what lied in there. He was reminded of the lights from the party, and Yunho standing among them like he was the epicentre, and the dark surrounding the two of them did so well in making Yeosang think Yunho was the only one around him. Yunho’s singing voice rose in his mind, but instead they said ‘I wish you were him’. He wanted Yunho to come back and say that again. He dared him to compare his presence with someone else’s. This time, he had answers. Right ones.

Next time Yunho stood before him, Yeosang parted his lips to bring the matter in his mind up, but Yunho said: “Let’s go to Pohang instead.”

“What?”

“Pohang.”

“…But Gwangju.”

“Trains are cancelled.” 

“We have other options. You can’t just give up on it. Think about Monkey. He misses you.” He sat Yunho down, and stuffed another gingerbread bunny in his mouth, and Yunho fed him one back.

After swallowing his last bite heavily, Yeosang took his bag back, setting it on his lap. He patted around the zippers, his head so full with thoughts that it felt empty. Yunho had stood up again to pick up a phone call from home, and to check the time tables. Holding his breath, felt the box under his hand, and with his knees jittering up and down, he waited to Yunho to return. He was more restless than he wanted to show, unable to sit still. Next time he saw him, walking around the bench like a child in need of attention, Yeosang took the chance.

“Hey, um,” He said, tentatively. There was quite the distance between them. Again. “I know you’re bummed out, but…can I at least try to cheer you up?”

Yunho smiled gratefully, staring into the black screen on his phone, at the red, Christmas flickering above him. “Sure.”

From inside his bag, Yeosang finally brought out a small box, wrapped in blue and green, with holographic ribbons. He set it down in the space between them.

Yunho gave him confused look, then it shifted to a one of refusal and disbelief. “Didn't know we're exchanging gifts.”

“Just…Open it.” Yeosang urged, filling the empty space with his presence once Yunho picked the box up. He watched him untie the ribbons and unwrap it with utmost care, and he found it almost laughable at how small the box seemed in his big hands.

Inside was an old phone. Like one of the first generations of smartphones. It lied in the middle of blue crumpled up tissue paper, like it was something valuable.

Yunho had mixed thoughts, and although he was confused thousandfold, he remained silent, not wanting to sound rude with whatever he wanted to say. Before he asked, he thought about the millions of possibilities of what the gift could mean. Yeosang was not dumb enough to get him a new (old?) phone. Unless it was part of a prank. Or a bigger gift. Maybe this phone was the first hint to a treasure hunt game.

“Look through it.” Yeosang said, merciful at the steam that was coming out from Yunho’s brain.

“What?”

“Really. Look through it. Gallery, messages, notes.”

“But whose is this?”

“My old phone.”

He picked the device up and closed the box back. Nostalgia was slowly seeping its way into his heart as he was fumbling around to unlock the phone’s screen. He remembered the old games he used to play on his first phone, and the poor quality pictures and selfies he took with it.

There wasn’t much on the phone in his hands. Besides the old generations messaging apps, and games that years ago had been the most popular. Like Tiny Wings. And Fruit Ninja. Among many others. Games Yunho didn’t recognise. The gallery was filled with pictures of anime and dogs and heavily edited ones of boys on skateboards, as well as drawings of ‘scene’ girls and guys. Yunho laughed, and next to him, Yeosang cringed into his next life.

“I don’t know what you had in mind with this, but this is hilarious. I’m having a good time.”

Yeosang looked at him as if this was precisely the answer he was expecting.

Next came the notes app, where Yunho didn’t find anything interesting, besides a list of Yeosang’s old gaming accounts and passwords. Twenty-six at number. The twenty-seventh one was deleted.

When Yunho opened the messages, Yeosang shifted in his seat, hiding his hands within his sleeves.

There was only one messaging log there, and that was one to a person named ‘thrXne’.

A blizzard in the form of a shiver ran through and across Yunho’s spine, as he whacked his mouth with his palm in shock. The slapping sound made Yeosang worry, but Yunho was going through a crisis next to him. And during this crisis, he could feel no pain.

The last message Yeosang had sent to this ‘thrXne’ person was on the 24th of December 2013, where they had wished each other Merry Christmas. “Shut up…” Yunho whispered, aggressively scrolling through the messages in attempt to reach the first one they've ever sent. “Shut up…” He repeated, and by the way the apples of his cheeks went red, Yeosang assumed he was happy.

Yunho had been scrolling for almost two minutes straight. Enough exercise for his red, dry, and gloveless fingers to warm up. “What the fuck…” He mumbled. The next time he scrolled, the messages stopped loading, having finally reached the first one. As soon as he read it, Yunho laughed, balancing his feet left and right under the bench, tangling them up with Yeosang’s.

thrXne: hiii :) this is you, yeah???

xyakumorising: hii >/////< yes it’s me

thrXne: omg hi sorry im nervous 

do u want me to call u yakumo

or can i :( have ur real name

xyakumorising: is it ok if i give u my name later :(

thrXne: it’s ok ;o

mine’s yunho XD

Yunho slammed the phone screen down against his leg and laughed wildly in his fist. No, he didn’t find it funny, that was just his form of cringing. And his form of expressing happiness and shock at once. The guy next to him was no better. He went back to scrolling down the messages, reading every single one of them quickly as he scrolled by, and only bothering with the ones that mattered. Like those ones, which gave Yunho funny flashbacks:

thrXne: can i tell u a secret >_>

xyakumorising: yes ;o

thrXne: im scared bc i never told anyone

xyakumorising: is it bad? D;;

thrXne: no…but im scared u won’t be my friend anymore

xyakumorising: if it’s not bad then i’ll keep being ur friend ;3

thrXne: so ive been thinking a lot and >_<;;; i think i have a crush on u and im really sorry bc i know ur a boy and im a boy but it’s ok if u don’t like me back i just know we said we’ll be honest. i really love talking to u and if i was older i would come see u and i tried telling my mom to come where u are but :( she said no bc i have school

xyakumorising: this is y u were scared?

thrXne: yes :( im sorry

xyakumorising: don’t be bc me too

thrXne: u too?

xyakumorising: i like yunho hyung too

but i thought captain was your girlfriend

thrXne: nooo :(((( y does everyone think that, she and i are just close

xyakumorising: oh sorry ;(

also i don’t mind that ur a boy :) boys are cute too

“Why the fuck was I referring to you in the third person…I cannot fathom…What was I thinking?” Yeosang rambled to himself.

“It’s because you wanted to be cute…And it was working too, I remember screaming and losing my shit.”

thrXne: wait do u like me too???

xyakumorising: yes >/////< yunho hyung has a nice personality and im sure he has a nice face too and i >/////////< wanted to ask u if u wanted to date me but i was too shy to ask

thrXne: like?? me??? your boyfriend?????

xyakumorising: *nods*

thrXne: yes :( i want

but is it ok like this???

xyakumorising: we can be like this until we meet ;3

and when we meet we can be like O,…,O time to hug and kiss

Yeosang dragged his beanie across his face, laughing and crying into it, as he curled himself up into a ball and rolled to one side. Yunho was not too far off. His heart was soaring, his hands were warm, and the inside of his jacket suddenly had room for one more person. When his cringing fit cooled down, Yeosang found a different expression on Yunho’s face, one that didn’t indicate him much. But then Yunho looked down at Yeosang’s lap, pulled his hand from inside his sleeve, crossed their fingers together, and the atmosphere between them shifted. Yeosang made his hand comfortable inside Yunho’s, and held back a smile at how he caressed his hand with his thumb. “Can I hug you?” Yunho asked.

“Yeah.”

But instead of hugging him the friendly way, Yunho took Yeosang by the shoulders and tucked him in his arms, with his head right underneath his chin. Yeosang found a way to wrap his hands around him nonetheless. “What does this mean?” Yunho mumbled.

Yeosang drew them apart, but their hands remained together, and they played with each other’s fingers as if they moved on their own. “What does what mean?”

Yunho looked down at the phone, then back up at him. “This.”

The day before, when Yeosang was wrapping the gift, he had second thoughts. The problem was that it could mean everything and nothing at the same time. If Yunho took the hint, then he would feel relieved. If he didn’t, then at least he made a friend whom he wanted to see happy more than he wanted to see himself happy.

“It means,” He thought. As much as his clothes were keeping him warm, the tightness and the cold in his chest didn’t help. “It means you found me. And I found you.”

Yunho held Yeosang’s hands as gently as he’d hold a hatchling, and although they were not cold anymore, it made Yeosang feel uneasy when they started trembling.

“When I went home that day…I looked for the phone. And when I opened it,” He breathed out through his nose as a form of nervous laughter, and looked downcast. “That picture of you, the only one you sent me…Was still my wallpaper. And I remember the day you sent it…It was a pretty bad day for me, and having that picture there made me feel safe. But then I realised how creepy it must have been, so I changed it.”

Yunho shook his head. “I did the same with the one you sent me.”

“I sent you one?”

“The one with just your eyes, and the rest of your face was under the covers. You winked and you showed a piece sign. When I asked you if someone beat you up because of that thing on your temple, but it was actually your birthmark.”

“Oh, I remember that.”

The colour in Yunho’s eyes shifted along with which feeling took over. He wanted to take Yeosang up in his arms, toss him and wash him in the snow, hug and kiss him, move away from him, then hug him again, to scream and laugh with him. But the colour became its darkest when he recalled the past events. Yeosang playing the exact same songs Yunho had, him knowing exactly when he was sliding down the memory hill.

“It’s you.”

“It is me.”

“I found you.”

“You found me.”

“I really found you.”

“You did. You really found me. I found you too. It took so much not to just tell you then.”

“What stopped you?”

“I still wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel real. I thought about what you said so much, and I remembered everything too, and I thought how much of a coincidence that must have been. And I was happy. I knew I was going to bring it up at some point, but I…” Yeosang stared into space, gently shaking his head. “I just wanted to listen to you talk. Sometimes, when I remembered, it felt like my mind was mingling fantasies with memories. So I stopped. Because I wanted all I had to be true.”

Yunho held his breath as Yeosang spoke. He remained as still as Yeosang wanted his memories to stay. His eyes were on the pink birthmark from the younger’s temple. He was taken back to when he first saw Yeosang, and his first impulse to ask him why that pink thing was and if someone beat him up. Just like, years ago, he had asked ‘xyakumorising’.

“…Why did you leave? Because of your parents?”

Yeosang nodded. Yunho’s hand was on his knee. “Yeah. We moved out too. To the other side of town. And the moving process was a four month long one. We had to go back and forth. I had to change schools and friends. There were no fights or violent outbursts. But there were a few weeks when I felt like I was invisible to both of them. So I studied instead. I sunk myself into school work. They couldn’t send me to school right away, because of their divorce trials, so I made use of stuff I already had...A huge mess.”

“But you’re okay now.” 

“I am.” He shielded Yunho’s hands with his own. “I’m a lot better.”

A lump collected itself like a thread ball at the base of Yunho’s throat. His heart was in an inhuman rush to deliver, to show, to laugh, and to cry. It was as if his heart had told him that what he felt was something repressed, when in reality, he had been so open about. Yeosang’s presence put an instant smile on his face. That was something that not even his heart could deny.

“I feel kinda bad now.” Yunho said, in the end. They had both been smiling at each other. What they felt was not something they had repressed— their hearts told them.

“Why?” 

“Because I told you all that. Must’ve been awkward.”

“Not at all. Made me happy. I felt relieved too.”

“Relieved?”

“I would not have told you anything if you hadn’t said you liked me. Because…I liked you too. And I wanted to come see you too. And you made me happy.”

Yunho took Yeosang’s hand within his own, and held it close to his body. They moved slow, like it was their first time seeing each other. Like they were fourteen and inexperienced all over again. “Do you think I still could?” He asked. “Make you happy?”

Within his grip, Yeosang’s hand softened and became much warmer. “You’ve been doing pretty well so far.”

“You think so?”

“…It wasn’t so bad…seeing you every day.” Yeosang had tried to say with as little emotion as he could, but failed.

Lowering his head, with his elbows against his knees, Yunho brought their hands to his forehead, laughing quietly to himself. Through the blue of his hair, Yeosang could still see the wrinkles at the corner of Yunho’s eyes. “But hyung,” He called. In response, Yunho raised his eyes, with their hands now over his mouth and nose. “Did you ask me that because of ‘then’ or because of ‘now’?”

“I was never going to give up on you just because of years ago. I feel like…what we’ve been through now, and what happened then…sort of complete each other. It’s like a reunion. I’m happy Wooyoung came up with the idea. I’m happy you’re the one he’s thought of. And I’m happy you weren’t weirded out. And I’m okay with not going home for Christmas if it means staying with you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it, though. If we can’t go home, this Christmas could be ours. That’s okay too.”

After they had their conversation about their past relationships, and the realisation of things dawned upon Yeosang, he rushed to Wooyoung’s place unable to control his tears. The entire time, Wooyoung was with his phone next to him, ready to throw hands, but when he saw where Yeosang was going with his story, his and San’s eyes became teary too. No one said anything in the next minutes. Besides San chanting ‘That’s so…cute…Stuff like this doesn’t happen.’ Next, he went home to retrieve his old phone, and since he saw that the last message he and Yunho exchanged seven years ago was them wishing each other’s Merry Christmas, he felt like he owed him one. Yeosang owed him more than a Christmas wish. “Okay.” He smiled. “Sure.”

They waited on the same bench until Yunho’s mother called again to report that there were also no trains leaving Gwangju either, and refused to let them take other means of transport out of the risk being too high.

Yunho hung up with a disappointed smile on, put Yeosang’s beanie back on, then his own, after which he took his hand and headed out.

The campus paths were capped in tracks from luggage wheels and footprints heading towards the exit. For a moment, it was all that was left. Before entering, an idea sparked into Yeosang’s head, and he guided Yunho back outside. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

They went to the nearest supermarket, where Yeosang pulled out a list of things from his phone, while finding all sorts of ways to hold Yunho’s hand while he did his thing. He’d stick his hand into his own pocket, or hold in between his body and arm while both his hands were busy carrying things. “What do you plan on making?”

“We’re baking you a pumpkin chocolate cake.”

“Oh, you can bake?”

“…No. Can’t be that hard.”

*

It was hard. For both of them. The cake turned out fine. Yunho preferred the one they made rather than the one at the cafe because Yeosang went ‘say when’ while adding in the chocolate chips. But Yunho never said when. It was a six out of ten on presentation, but it was edible, and sweet enough to satisfy both of them. Yeosang did not want to restrict Yunho when it came to eating his absolute favourite cake, so he did not bother with cutting it up. If he wanted to devour it all, he was more than welcome to.

“I hope you know you’ll have to make me one every week now.”

“Is it that good?”

“It’s good because you made it.”

“We made it.”

“You told me to sit down and not touch anything.”

“…Like I said. We made it.”

Yunho grinned with the fork between his teeth, scooted his chair closer to Yeosang, and fed him cake instead. Their songs played from the speaker. Sitting next to each other, with their cheeks leaned against the clear table, their hands were touching underneath the table.Yunho booped Yeosang’s nose with his own.

When two special songs played one after the other, namely, the ones they first dedicated to each other, they put everything down, stopped whatever they were doing, and listened. Yunho held the Christmas blanket over his back like a bat’s wings, and went up to wrap it around Yeosang too, spinning them together around the room, like they tipsy danced days ago, while singing ‘Painting Flowers’ by All Time Low.

They dragged the bed by the window, still enveloped with the same snowflake patterned blanket, and sat in silence while watching the snowfall. Yunho’s cheek was rested on the crown of Yeosang’s hair, nuzzling through the pink strands when his heart beat too strongly. “I have a new song for you.” Yeosang said, as softly as a snowflake landing, taking his phone and letting the song play. ‘Piece Of You’ by RX.

It was a slow and gentle one, with clear lyrics and an even clearer guitar. Yunho could not have asked for a more perfect song to snowgaze to. He smiled like he did when ‘xyakumorising’ had sent him the first picture of him, scrunching up his nose while hugging Yeosang tighter. He was so smitten with him, he did not know what to do with himself. “Never thought we’d start over.”

With the back of his head against Yunho’s chest, Yeosang raised his eyes. They bore the sheen of pearls, and his eyelashes were dense with memories. “I guess you were right.” Yeosang began. Yunho held him. His breath caught in his chest. More smitten than two second ago, he booped Yeosang’s nose again. “We never did break up.”

*

On Christmas Eve, Yunho’s family, Monkey included, drove to Seoul to surprise the two. While Yunho was busy screeching and carrying Yeosang on his back all over campus out of happiness, the younger was stressed because he forgot the story they had made up. 

Both Yunho’s parents were a perfect mirror to him. Everyone reacted to gifts the same way, and laughed in the same tone too. His mother would not stop pointing at everything Yeosang was doing, cooing ‘He’s so sweet and gentle, look at him’. Needless to say, she loved him. His dad had nothing negative to comment either.

The two of them went to buy Monkey’s Christmas presents, walking him through a pets’ store and buying almost everything he touched. While Yunho and Monkey were on a different isle, Yeosang secretly bought him a Christmas cape with a big bow in the front. He sat down, wagging his tail erratically, waiting for Yeosang to put it on him.

Their family Christmas dinner was at a pet friendly restaurant, where Monkey attracted a lot of attention and had a lot of costumers ask for pictures. Yunho had showed up to the dinner with a matching Christmas cape, because he did not want the dog to feel left out. Monkey sat underneath the table, with his chin on Yunho’s thigh, and his paw on Yeosang’s, looking at both of them like they were his entire world. Or as if he knew something they didn’t.

When Yunho left the table to order more mulled wine, Monkey followed suit. The sight made Yeosang feel in ways he hadn’t felt his entire life, much too happy to feel anxious that he was left alone at the table with Yunho’s parents. He met eyes with Yunho’s mother, in the end. She smiled and said “I like the way you look at Yunho.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, and Merry Early Christmas ^^  
> This is my first fic in this fandom, but there are more on the way (they just take a lot of time ;( )  
> I may or may not have stumbled upon a song that I used to listen to when I was like thirteen, and that's where I got the idea from. Also bc this fandom needs a lot more Yunsang.  
> Ngl I had a lot of fun writing this. It made me feel a lot of things D;. It's a lot shorter than the stuff I usually write, and it was interesting to try writing in a quicker pace at times.  
> Last but no least, this fic is a Christmas gift for my best friend and soulmate ( @_Yun9) <3 -Sorry I didn't tell you anything about it, fam, but it was for a good cause. I've been throwing hints at you for like two weeks now. Ilysm.
> 
> Also I ??? might make a Twitter soon if this goes well idk D;;
> 
> _____
> 
> Update, here's the Twitter thing: @cassyeopeia


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